


An Empire Forged You

by Xyz0608



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: F/M, Rebelcaptain Secret Santa 2018, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, The Force, Trying to escape from a fascist government, Undercover, Vaguely steampunk in later chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 13:35:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17225000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xyz0608/pseuds/Xyz0608
Summary: Let's say that there was a world where the Force could write its symbols on your skin in black ink. And when you fulfilled the purpose of the soulmark that the Force had given you, the black ink turned to gold.Let's say that there was an Empire that turned into a Republic, that killed all the Jedi and ruled through terror and pain. That sealed off its capital city for more than fifty years, allowing no one to enter and no one to leave.Let's say that there was a Rebellion, scraping by in the sewers and tunnels beneath that very same city. Let's say that this Rebellion sought a way out of the sealed city.Let's say that there was a spy, and a scientist's daughter, and that they bore the same star inked on their skins. And Let's say that the Force knew what it was doing, when it pushed those two together.





	An Empire Forged You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OhMaven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhMaven/gifts).



> My 2018 Rebelcaptain Secret Santa gift for OhMaven.
> 
> The prompt was pattern, which I did touch upon, but it will become more prominent in the second part.
> 
> I hope you like it.

Excerpt from the Resolution of Rebellion

authored by Alliance Commander-In-Chief Mon Mothma in response to Senator Jebel’s call for surrender

 

There was the Republic.

It was a democracy, or as close as one could have; a democratic republic, at the very least. It was ruled by a slow-moving and mostly bureaucratic Senate, which represented every faction of every species that dwelled within the city walls.

Coruscant, the capital city of the Republic, was built to be a world apart. Its walls rose thousands of feet into the air, impenetrable and invincible. The Jedi Knights were its guardians of peace and justice; the strongest warriors and the wisest scholars.

And then the war came.

The war, and the fall. The fall of every other living being -- every other civilization, city, village. They were torn down, ripped apart by fire and wind and rain.

The Republic gathered all of its citizens, drew them all into Coruscant. The beautiful city of marble and glass turned into a fortress, wrought of iron and duracrete. Museums and libraries were burned to the ground, and tenements were built up in their places, to house the newcomers.

Coruscant survived, because of the foresight of Jedi Master Sifo Dyas. The clone army was enough, to fortify the city against the elements, and to fight the enemies that threatened from outside. And the Jedi, their skin covered in black and gold soulmarks, commanded them in all their tasks.

Coruscant was a city at war; at war with the very world around it. But they were content, under the leadership of Chancellor Palpatine and the Jedi Council, and most of the simple folk who lived then were able to do so without knowing much of the goings-on outside.

Project Celestial Power was developed by Director Krennic under the supervision of the Imperial Security Bureau. Its goal was to find an autonomous power source for the city; to power Coruscant entirely on its own, without necessitating contact with the rest of the world.

It was successful.

The Empire, when it took over from the Republic, sealed Coruscant off from the rest of the world. It was for safety, they claimed; but with the Jedi Order destroyed, there was no one left who could have challenged them.

That is why the Empire is still the reigning power of this city. Because no one can leave.

This Rebellion exists not for the sake of warmongering. We do not seek out violence, or bitterness, or vengeance. We are not trying to settle a score of perceived wrongs.

The Empire has committed atrocity after atrocity, with no sort of balancing power to keep them in check, now that the Jedi are gone. They have shown a consistent pattern of disregard for the innate and unalienable rights of their citizens, including secret arrests by the ISB and suppression of soulmarks.

All of these crimes are the result of fear. The Empire fears this Rebellion, just as it fears the soulmarks; for soulmarks are signs written on our skins by the Force itself, that show us the people who will have the greatest impact on our lives, for better or for worse.

The Rebellion will impact the Empire for worse.

Even though we sit at a stalemate with the Empire, fighting in the tunnels that run like the roots of a tree from the center of our city. Even though we judge our progress in this war by how far we can push the live front back in a day.

That is not our purpose.

We are trying to destroy the locks that keep our gates sealed. We are not trying to kill Imperials; we are trying to find a way _out_ , away from the rule of the Empire.

It is time we remembered that.

\---------

**THEN:**

Captain Cassian Andor was in the eleventh year of his undercover operation when he saw her for the first time.

He had spent yet another long, dull evening listening to overweight politicians attempt to manipulate each other for their own agendas, watching the Imperial troopers and their commanding officers flinch anytime he so much as glanced at them.

It was very nearly funny, the level of fear that the Empire felt it had to maintain in its soldiers; that they had an entire division devoted to discovering weaknesses and failing loyalties.

Imperial Loyalty Officer Joreth Sward was a quiet, polite man, not soft-spoken but rather rarely-spoken. He instilled fear through his silence, through his patience and willingness to wait for the people around him to speak first.

That, and his knowledge of all four hundred and thirty seven pain points on the human body.

As a result, the politicians paid him no mind and the other enlisted men left him alone, not willing to risk being noticed by the ISB for the sake of politeness.

He wasn’t surprised when Director Krennic entered, fashionably late as befitting a man of his ego, followed by his usual entourage of six black-clad Imperial deathtroopers. Cassian had long dismissed the man as overrated; just blowing hot air in lieu of serving a real use based on any actual talent.

Cassian was mildly surprised when he saw that Galen Erso was attending this evening’s dinner event. The aging, gray-haired scientist looked almost as uncomfortable in dress uniform and surrounded by the people who paid for his technology as Cassian felt living in the empire for more than a decade.

The shock wasn’t even that a young woman -- presumably Erso’s daughter -- had come, as well, though she was lovely--

( _She’s beautiful_ , Cassian thinks, seeing her dark hair drift about her face, her green eyes made even more vivid by the emerald material of her dress. He shoves that thought down, into the depths of his brain, along with the rest of the Things That No Longer Matter And Are Unimportant.)

(It doesn’t feel unimportant.)

(She felt like the most important.)

What startled Cassian -- and that was rare, that he was startled, after passing through the espionage training of both the Alliance and the Empire -- was her soulmark.

The ink was dark, black, a fierce contrast against the pale skin of her neck. It sat in the open, which was itself a rare thing among Coruscanti High Society, on her neck, just below her jawline.

The thing that shocked him the most was the shape of her soulmark. An intricate star, drawn with seven points.

It was the same as the mark that sat on his wrist, just above the veins there.

She turned her face, then, met his gaze.

And everything became _more_.

\---------

**NOW:**

Now, they stood before the first gate, the final barrier between the Rebellion and the outside world they’d spent so long fighting to see.

Now, Jyn’s soulmark shone golden in the dim light of the torches.

Now, Cassian stood next to her, no longer undercover, no longer imprisoned by the stifling gray uniform that stood for everything he hated.

Now, he stood next to her, his blaster held firm and steady; to protect, not to kill.

(Not _necessarily_ to kill.)

Now, Jyn snarled in frustration as she tried to fit the heavy metal key into one of the innumerable locks that covered the surface of the third gate.

Now, Cassian heard the fighting pick up on the other side of the fourth gate -- the door they had just passed through.

Now, he hissed “Hurry, Jyn,” right before everything fell terribly, suspiciously silent.

Now, Jyn cried out in pain at some hurt that he could not see. Cassian reached for her instinctively, his own mark burning, not knowing how that could possibly help, but needing to--

Needing to--

\---------

**THEN:**

When the world became _more_ , he supposed it technically became _less_.

Everything around him -- the glowing lights and colorful gowns and drab uniforms and golden marble -- became _more_ . More bright, more vivid, more _meaningful_ ; the world swirled in a dizzying array of everything that it _could be_ but usually _was not_.

But it all swirled around _her_.

(Nothing of the way his world was shifting made its way onto his face. His mouth did not twitch, his eyes did not flicker; he held her gaze for a moment more, sealing inside his memory the way it felt to meet the gaze of his soulmate, before he dropped his eyes back to the other patrons of the party.)

He wasn’t expecting it when, mere moments later, she had seated herself in the chair next to him, her green eyes bright and flinty with unanswered questions.

“Mind if I join you?”

(Her hair was dark -- so dark, dark like the night, but shot through with strands of auburn and gold that made it seem like a deep, fiery brown. He could feel the warmth radiating from her skin, even when she was sitting at least an arm’s length away from him.)

He was better prepared this time, when he met her gaze, and the world became _more_ than it usually was. But it took his breath away; her, and the swirling colors that surrounded her.

( _Force you’re pathetic_ , a voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Draven chided him.)

“Free country,” he muttered, forgetting himself for a moment. Those words were not the words of ISB Loyalty Officer Joreth Sward; nor were those the words of Jeron Andor, who had said them often enough that a young Cassian had remembered them.

(Those words were old, old as the hills and the civilizations that Coruscant had been built upon and in mirror of.)

“Ah, but that’s the problem, isn’t it?” she asked, her lips quirking up into a smile that he couldn’t help but return. “It isn’t really.”

\---------

That is how it starts.

This is how it ends.

\---------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't really touch on the prompt in this chapter, but the patterns in the story will become more prominent later on
> 
> The second chapter will be posted shortly

**Author's Note:**

> starxdust22 on tumblr


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